


Five Nights at Achievement Hunter 2: Electric Boo-galoo

by vivaciousWordsmith



Series: Various Ghosts in a Lot of Machines [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Body Horror, Gen, Ghosts, Horror/Mystery, Killer Robots, Robots, Spooky, fnaf au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaciousWordsmith/pseuds/vivaciousWordsmith
Summary: From the creators of Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria comes the pinnacle in animatronic restaurant entertainment – Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World! Top of the line animatronics, fun games and exciting prizes lie within. An adventure for the whole family!…Beneath the shiny veneer, something very strange is going on at the new restaurant. Why do all of the animatronics have state of the art security software? Just what is in the Parts and Service room? And where did the Court Jester go?Not that Caleb, the new nightguard, cares too much. It's just another part-time job in the off season for him.At least, that's what he thinks.





	1. Prologue: A New Beginning

**_***Two Weeks Before Grand Opening***_ **

****

Much of the restaurant was still in disarray. Plastic sheeting draped over the machines, lined the floors and hung from the half-tiled ceilings. Paint cans clustered around the walls, shadowing half finished murals of monsters and warriors clashing in (hopefully) fantastic battle. Boxes littered the ground, all in various stages of open, half-empty, and empty. Toolkits spread out over every single table like doctor’s instruments on an operating deck. It certainly didn’t look like the next big arcade and animatronic themed pizza restaurant. Hell, it didn’t look like much of _anything._

 _"_ I know, I know, it doesn’t look like much now, but trust me, Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World is going to be _the_ place to go for kids of all ages! We've really outdone ourselves this time. Pulled out all the stops!"

J.J. looked around, entirely unconvinced. "Uh huh."

His manager (who didn't seem to have a name or had at least forgotten to tell him) tutted and folded his arms. "C'mon, where's your sense of adventure, Castillo?"

He shrugged. "I'm just daytime security, y'know? All the PR shi...stuff doesn't really matter to me."

"No, no, no! You're not _just_ security! You're the guardian of this noble palace! The custodian of all our wonderful characters!"

_'Yeah, you're not drinking the fucking Kool-Aid or anything.'_

Outwardly, he said, "More like custodian of the dumping grounds."

"Like I said, this will look much, _much_ better in the coming weeks. We have a few last touches here and there, have to get in all the computers and whatnot, and Mr. Sorola wants to oversee the activation of the bots himself. All very doable! We’re on track for our grand opening, and that’s really all that matters!”

The manager walked up to the main stage. It was styled to look like aged flagstones, and the faux wooden sign beneath it had "The High Court" scribed upon it in gold lacquer. Four figures stood motionless on stage, flanked by red velvet curtains and covered in opaque whitish tarpaulins. J.J. could only just glimpse their individual colors through the murk. A hint of forest green here, a dash of muddy brown there. This was their main attraction, their crown jewel, their pride and joy, and boy were they showing it off.

Upon reaching the stage, the manager ripped the sheets away one by one. J.J. hadn't actually seen any of the animatronics before, and he hardly wanted to now. The less he had to deal with the bots, the better. Man, first impressions weren't going too great, either. All of them appeared to be made completely out of plastic, a way to appear more toy-like and less threatening, he heard, but the effect, he felt, was more...freaky than anything else. Like they'd been dipped in an entire tub of Vaseline. The effect worked for the armor piece several of them were wearing, but for the cloth and fur...ugh. It was just gross.

"Now, the final stage roster isn't permanent just yet. Plus these animatronics are state of the art! Programmed to wander around and interact with all the customers, young and old alike! So lifelike you could mistake them for the real thing! Ha ha!" The manager leaned up against the lead robot and tapped his yellowy-golden faceguard. "Cost a pretty penny, I can tell you. Nothing else like them on the market, the next level of animatronic entertainment!"

Sure.

To J.J., they just looked like plastic robots. Freaky, but otherwise unremarkable.

 

 

**_***One Week Before Grand Opening***_ **

 

 

Though there was still disarray, much of the chaos had resolved into a functional animatronic restaurant and arcade. Fully realized fantastic scenery glistened on every wall, the plastic sheeting had been removed and thrown away, the carousel with the cutsey barn animals spun and played tinkly music to perfection, and posters lined what few white walls remained.

Not that every tick on the checklist had been marked off. The registers had to be installed, all the cabinets needed to be wired up, the computers were still shipping out to them, and Mr. Sorola hadn’t managed to find time to come activate the robots, so they remained motionless beneath their tarps. Then there was all the schedule making for the employees and the event calendars and all the parties already booked into the system…it was going to be a long week, for sure.

On Monday, the normally humdrum and uneventful work ground to a halt with the low groaning sound of a heavy goods vehicle. All five workers put down their tools and moved into the entryway to investigate. A large black eighteen-wheeler had pulled up in the parking lot, and several men in dark suits opened its door and pushed dollies into its depths. The store manager stood outside and talked with one of the men. Sadly, they were much, much too far away to make out what they were saying.

Then came the crates.

There were five of them all together. Each on its own towered over the man pushing it, and little beads of sweat beaded on their brows. A horrid stench leaked out from underneath the faint timber smell of the crates, and each bore a bright red _FRAGILE – DO NOT TIP OVER_ stamp on all sides. One by one they entered the restaurant and made their way towards the back, where Parts and Service lay.

The manager entered in behind them. His arms were folded over his chest, and a light frown furrowed his brow. “I’ll be sure to thank RT for this…very generous gift. And don’t you worry, we’ll put them to good use. It’s always nice to have some spare parts around, at any rate.”

None of the men responded. The first in line set his burden down beside the door and held it open for the other four. Once they were inside, he wheeled the last box inside and shut the door behind him. Several minutes later, thumps and clangs rang out in rhythmic, almost perfect patterns.

Though everyone was deathly curious, not a single person dared to peek inside while the men were still there. There was something terribly… _off_ …about the whole affair. Maybe it was the uniform way they moved and dressed, or the pungent smell clinging to the crates, or the way they had come unannounced and unceremonious, or how the manager had barely reacted to the whole affair. In any case, it unsettled them, and they stayed away.

Thirty minutes later, all five men exited the room. Five empty boxes stacked on top of the dollies. Torn paper leaked out of the tops of the boxes and fluttered gently to the ground. Though the awful smell still lingered, it had been greatly reduced in strength. Without a word, the men traipsed back to the truck, loaded the boxes back up, and departed.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get back to work!” the manager barked, and the workers quickly set about clearing away the paper and reclaiming their tools. As soon as they were sufficiently busy, the manager moved into the back and pasted a new sign on the door to Parts and Service.

_CAUTION! DANGER OF ELECTROCUTION AND SERIOUS INJURY. AUTHORIZED EMPLOYEES ONLY._

 

**_***One Day until Grand Opening***_ **

 

 

At last, through hours and hours of work, everything had fallen into place. Rows upon rows of tables sparkled in the light, ready to bear the weight of the hundreds of eager kids already excited for this new and improved arcade experience. The computers were hooked up and ready to go, all the important papers had been filed away, and every remaining scrap of construction material now sat in the dumpsters. A red ribbon stretched between a few white pylons out front, ready to be cut and welcome the hoards into Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World.

All that was left was to activate the robots.

“Where is he? Mr. Sorola should have been here ten minutes ago.”

J.J. glanced over at his manager. Privately, he wondered just what in the fuck he was doing here on a Thursday evening. Or anyone else, for that matter. For fuck’s sake, they were just turning a couple of stupid robots on! Why was all the fucking… _fanfare_ necessary?! Hell, the fucking CTO of RTE _himself_ was coming down to oversee their activation! It was insane!

He glanced over at the bots themselves and shifted back a pace. The final roster had shifted somewhat, and now only three robots stood on stage. The fourth had been moved to the Throne Room for the time being. J.J. only knew that the event organizers wanted to arrange a "grand battle" between one of the warriors and the Mad King. Whatever the hell that meant. The three left on stage were still under their tarpaulins, obscured from the view of the public eye, colors muddied like paintings left out in the rain. Occasionally, the bottoms of the tarps would catch the AC and lift up ever so slightly. Gold, green and black boots glimmered momentarily in the light before being obscured again.

Finally, the long-awaited sound of a car locking greeted the bored entourage. Moments later, three men entered through the front doors and crossed the restaurant. The lead man (J.J. assumed this was Mr. Sorola) wore a battered looking, slightly oversized black suit, a yellowing dress shirt, and a threadbare red tie. He looked like he hadn't slept in several months and had several days' worth of stubble peppering his cheeks and neck. Both of the men behind him were wearing stained jean overalls, long black rubber gloves, and t-shirts. One carried a sleek black toolbox, while the other had what looked suspiciously like a cattle prod.

"If I may ask," said the manager, "what took you so long, Mr. Sorola?"

"We're not _that_ late," said Mr. Sorola. "Or, at least, we wouldn't be if two certain _somebodies_..." He turned and glared at the two men behind him. Both of them winced and looked away. "…hadn't realized they'd forgotten their tools fucking _halfway_ here!"

"Uh...well..." The manager clapped his hands together and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "If you need a mome-"

"We're fine." Mr. Sorola waved his hand. "Alright, assholes, get up there and get those robots working! We don't have all fucking day."

Both of them snapped to attention and jumped on stage. One of them knelt beside the lead animatronic and flipped the tarp over its head. A loud _click_ echoed through the empty restaurant, and J.J. saw two forest green panels flip out from its back. His companion nervously slapped the cattle prod into his palm and shifted onto his back foot.

"Can you fucks hurry it up?" Sorola made a show of checking his watch.  "We don't exactly have a lot of time here, you know."

"We're going, we're going!"

The kneeling man opened his toolbox and took out a screwdriver and a pair of pliers. He poked around inside the animatronic and mumbled under his breath. Occasionally the animatronic’s limbs would jerk and spasm with a poke of the screwdriver, and the tarp shifted away from its arms and legs. The man with the cattle prod moved forward and brandished his weapon.

“Back off, Farmahini,” said Sorola. “It’s not on yet. Pussy.”

Farmahini coughed awkwardly and stepped back again.

Nothing happened for several long, awkward seconds. J.J. coughed into his fist and glanced back at the exit. His apartment beckoned him, ready with a warm bed and an ice-cold beer. Just had to get through this fucking…fucking… _farce,_ and then he could go home and not think about work for a good long while.

Then the kneeling man let out a little ‘oh!’ and fell back.

“What? What is it?” Sorola’s eyes widened, and he stepped toward the stage. A good deal of the color had drained out of his face. “Chris? What’s going on?!”

Chris winced and pulled off his glove. “It…it _shocked_ me. Think there’s a hole in my glove.” He examined his hand and stuck the hurt finger in his mouth.

As suddenly as it had come to him, all the animation leeched back out of Mr. Sorola. His face resumed its normal hound dog expression, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You fucking idiot. First you forget your tools, and now _this?_ ” He folded his arms and scowled. “I’m really, _really_ unimpressed with you right now, Demarais.”

Chris swallowed and quickly got back to work. “Almost done.”

“You’d better be.”

A loud _snap_ echoed through the room, and the animatronic jerked and juddered madly. The tarp fully fell away to reveal the seizing animatronic. Farmahini moved forward again, but was again waved back by Sorola.

“Just watch for now, okay? Jesus.”

J.J. watched the bot with morbid fascination. Its helmeted head bobbled back and forth, its gauntlet-covered arms thrashed and spasmed, its greaved knees buckled and threatened to give, and its fingers writhed like dying spiders. The overhead lights danced wildly off its forest green plating, and behind the golden visor, a brilliant light sparked and seemed to burn.

All of a sudden, it stopped and stood stock still. Unlike before, there was a measure to the stillness. Like a soldier standing to attention. Chris gingerly shut its back panels and stepped toward Farmahini. The robot’s head turned slightly with his retreat, but a cough from Mr. Sorola redirected its attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, the new and improved Sir Geoffrey.” Mr. Sorola waved a hand in the bot’s direction. “Activation was a little…tricky, but nothing unusual. First activation is always exciting.”

J.J. eyed it suspiciously. “Exciting?!”

Mr. Sorola glanced back at him. J.J. swallowed nervously. “It could have been much, _much_ worse than that. You can’t even _imagine._ ”

J.J. decided it would probably be in his best interest if he didn’t say anything else after that.

“Okay, let’s do some basic tests and move on to the others.” Sorola straightened ever so slightly and stared at the glowing visor. “Personnel ID 104003-4. Animatronic, respond.”

Nothing happened.

“These fucking…personnel ID 104003-4. _Geoff,_ respond.”

“Acknowledged. AI overridden. Awaiting maintenance command.”

The voice ground out from behind the faceplate, tinny and muffled. J.J. couldn’t help but shudder. It sounded so fucking _lifeless._

“Test basic motor functions.”

“Beginning basic motor test.” ‘Geoff’ turned its head to the left. It turned its head to the right. It lifted its left leg. It lifted its right leg. It lifted both arms over its head. Its fists opened and closed several times. It crouched into a ball and straightened upright. “Test complete.”

“Normal enough.” Sorola clapped his hands. “I’ll test everything else up later, once these morons are done setting up the others and get my equipment all ready. Okay, start on Mogar, and pick up the pace, for fuck’s sake!”

“What about Sir Geoff here?” asked the manager.

Upon hearing its name, the animatronic looked over at him.

“He’ll be fine. As long as I’m here, he’s safe as milk.”

A low mechanical sound rumbled out from Geoff’s visor. The light pulsed in a heartbeat-like rhythm. One-two, one-two, one-two.

“Sure,” J.J. mumbled under his breath. “Perfectly safe.”

 

**_***Grand Opening***_ **

 

 

A veritable tsunami of children descended upon the arcade the moment the clock struck nine a.m. Within moments quarters pumped into the machines and the siren song of video games filled the glistering restaurant. Pizza flowed out of the kitchen like water, and the stench of greasy garlic clung to the very walls and ceiling of the establishment.

J.J. wandered around the main room and sighed. Really, he didn’t understand why he was here. It was just another animatronic themed restaurant, there was no need for a fucking security guard. Unless they were worried about teens pinching fucking arcade cabinets in their fucking baggy pants or something.

Mostly he was just bored.

Maybe that was why he headed over to Parts and Service and stared at the warning written on the door. Sadly he had not been privy to the one interesting thing that had happened at this fucking place, but it had been all any of the employees could talk about for the past week. Five mysterious boxes hauled in, five mysterious boxes hauled out, and a warning message plastered all over the door afterwards. Nobody knew what was in there, but the rumor mill ground away with theories ranging from ‘probably nothing’ to ‘those are absolutely dead bodies, how can those _not_ be dead bodies’ level of reasonable.

Either way, it was the only thing that J.J. could reasonably be invested in.

His fingers brushed over the knob.

Just a peek, and then back to work. Just a peek. Just so he could _know_ what was in there.

The door opened a smidgeon. Fetid, rancid smelling air wafted over his face.

A hand slammed down on the door and shut it with a _click!_ J.J. jumped back with a tiny squeak and backed right into someone.

He heard a loud tutting. “That area is off limits, you know.”

J.J. blinked at the hand. It was covered in a plasticky black-and-white glove, and a wide seam separated the elbow from the forearm. He looked up and locked eyes with an opaque gray visor set in a teal, bucket-shaped helmet. He recognized it as one of the front stage animatronics, Major Pants or something. And he had backed right into his green-and-white doublet.

“Uh…”

“You heard me.” His other hand wrapped around J.J.’s upper arm and steered him back toward the main arcade floor. “Your job is to watch the arcade and make sure nothing happens. Not to go sneaking around.”

J.J. tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t find anything resembling words. All he could think about was the sensation of warm plastic fingers encircling his arm. A deep humming reverberated from within his chest, and when he moved his arm away from the door J.J. could hear various gears and servos whirring in his arm.

“Hey! Majordomo! The show’s about to start!”

J.J.’s manager rounded the corner, and for once, J.J. was happy to see him. The animatronic moved to look at him.

“I know,” he said.

“C’mon, we can’t have a show without Majordomo Pattillo now, can we? It’d fall apart in an instant!”

“What about Castillo here?”

J.J. twitched and stared up at the bot.

“I’ll deal with him. You go on, now.”

The animatronic huffed and moved forward. J.J. rubbed at the place where the fingers dug into his arm. He could already feel the bruises forming beneath his skin, red-hot and throbbing. Majordomo Pattillo moved back toward the stage, parting through the seas of children oh so easily. Most of them didn’t even come up to his waist.

“Castillo, why the hell were you trying to get into Parts and Service? There is _nothing_ in there for you. There is nothing in there for _anyone._ ” This was the most serious J.J.’s manager had ever been, and wow it was _really_ unsettling. “You’d better get back to work, or so help me, I’ll put you on the night _and_ day shift for the next year.”

“I thought you said you already _had_ a guy for the night shift!”

“Sure I do. But I can switch him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the day shift.”

At that moment, another employee ran up to the manager. Her face had gone milky white, and she shook like a leaf. “Um, sir? I…I need you to come with me.”

“Not now.”

“But…but sir! It’s the Mad King! It’s, it’s, it’s _urgent!_ ”

“The Mad King? What’s wrong with the Mad King?” The manager turned away, and J.J. took the opportunity to start slinking back onto the arcade floor. “It’s the first day, what could have gone wrong?!”

“Just…you need to see. It’s…it’s _awful.”_

“Shit.” He whipped around and pointed at J.J. “I’m still going to talk to you later, Castillo! This isn’t over!” Then he bustled down the hall marked with a hanging wooden sign. The golden text there read ‘the Throne Room’ in a fancy golden font. Meanwhile, the main stage show was in full swing, and the bots shouting mixed with the kids’ and the music blared over everything else and holy shit that was just too much sound.

God, whoever the dumbfuck was, J.J. totally envied the nightguard. Sure the hours would suck, and it had to be the most boring job on the face of the planet, but at least there would be peace and quiet.

It had to be better than this shit.

Right?


	2. Night 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb, our intrepid night guard, begins his first shift at Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World.

By the time Caleb arrived at Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World, the droves of children had long since left, and the building was dark and silent. It had only been open about two weeks or so, yet already promised to break even by the end of the month. Caleb hoped this meant a big fat paycheck at the end of the week, though the advertisement hadn't exactly been promising. If his regular job hadn't slashed his hours so drastically, he'd have stuck his nose up at a night job paying a paltry hundred bucks a week, especially one making so much money.

But it had, and here he was.

Caleb sighed and headed for the side entrance. They’d given him the key a couple days back, along with a warning to never misuse it. Not that he could even _think_ of a way to misuse it. The fuck was he gonna do? Throw a party or something? Eat illicit pizza?

Christ, it was like they didn’t trust their minimum wage slave or something.

Unlike the bright, open glass doors of the front entrance, the side door was gray and nondescript, with a bright red _EMPLOYEES ONLY_ stamped onto its façade. Caleb ran his thumb over the teeth of the key he’d been given the day before and prodded it into the lock. It turned with a loud clunk, and the door opened into a long, dark hallway.

After a thirty second walk, the hallway opened up into a little area for the employees to rest during breaktimes. All the walls were plastered with motivational posters bearing Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World’s mascots, and all of them were in eye-wateringly bright neon colors. A sofa sat in front of a miniscule TV in the far corner, while a table and a half dozen chairs bordered a kitchenette with a fridge, microwave and coffee maker. So, all in all, not great, but not terrible.

Maybe he could pop in here and get some coffee or something. God knew nothing ever happened during the graveyard shift.

Caleb checked his watch. It was already eleven fifty-seven. He needed to get to his office before his shift started twelve am. Set a good example. Maybe get himself in line for a promotion.

Yeah, right.

With that, he pushed open the door and entered the restaurant proper. The hordes of children had long since gone home, and the cleaning staff had restored the place to its shiny glory. Without the blaring music, bright lights and cacophony of children laughing, the entire building was shrouded in an eerie somberness. Like a tomb, vast and cold. Caleb shuddered and hurried toward his office.

In an effort to appear more open and friendly, the security office had been combined with the information desk, and thus sat at the end of the Rambunctious Lands, otherwise known as the private party rooms. Unlike most of the other rooms in the establishment, the security office had no doors and was almost egg shaped in its design. Drawings plastered the walls all around the entryway and the desk, while a poster of the new animatronics dominated the wall on his right. He glanced over at it and grimaced. Great. So _that_ unholy mess was gonna watch him all shift? Fuck.

Caleb tore his eyes from the poster and glanced over his desk. A chunky black laptop took up most of the space, and the rest was covered in action figures of the various Achievelandia characters. He recognized the three from the poster, but couldn’t put names to the other two. Resting on top of the laptop sat a large plastic facsimile of Sir Geoffrey’s green and gold helm. Caleb picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Had one of the kids lost this during the day?

A beeping tore through the silence and drew Caleb’s glance down to his wrist. 12 am. His shift had officially begun.

He set the helmet aside, sat down and flipped open the chunky laptop on the table. Static fuzzed across the screen and resolved into a view of the main stage. Oh boy. However bad the toony versions were on the poster, the animatronics were a _thousand_ times worse in real life. Sir Geoffrey and Pattillo at least looked fairly normal at this angle, but the bot on the left…man. Mogar’s face twisted into a permanent plastic scowl, and an unnatural seam split his lips at the sides and ran down to his neck. The ‘bearskin’ atop his head had soulless black eyes and shiny, sculpted brown fur. Another seam wrapped around the base of his neck and bisected the raised ‘strings’ on his pendant. All in all, the plastic did _not_ serve him well.

A ringing rang through the office and nearly startled him out of his chair. He glanced around and saw a chunky red phone sitting atop one of the piles of boxes in the corner. It rang two more times, and clicked over to its tape.

_“Heyo! Welcome to your new summer job at Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World, Mr. Uh…uh...”_ There was a shuffling of notes. _“Uh…Denecour? I’ll be your guide, getting you through this first week, and hopefully helping you spread your wings and take off here.”_

Caleb flipped through the rest of the cameras while the guy on the phone chattered. Most of them looked pretty empty and dark.

_“Okay, first things first. All those rumors you’ve heard about the old location? Forget ‘em. I know, I know, it’s popular to make fun of RT nowadays, but I can tell you, underneath all the rumors and speculation, we’re just another entertainment company. We’re fully committed to making this shit as fun and safe as possible, to the point where we’ve dished out a buttload of money on these new bots. Now, I don’t know if this is true or not, but they’re supposed to be equipped with some state of the art facial recognition systems. Company says it’s for security reasons. They’re fully functional, whether it’s day or night, and they have full access to the Internet and all the information within. Y’know, it’s almost like they’re guarding you, instead of the other way around. Ha!”_

“Maybe that’s why I’m only being paid a hundred bucks a week,” Caleb grumbled.

_“Now…I did just say…that they were mobile at night. And the guard who was there before you complained that they **did** …attempt…to get into the office a few times. Which shouldn’t be possible. So, he’s been…moved to another position in the meantime. The guys at the backend of this have looked at it from every possible angle, and the best explanation they came up for that was that the bots don’t really have a “sleep” mode. When the restaurant gets quiet, they get confused and try to find the people. And the only person in the building…Is you. In that office. And…you’re not exactly in the employee database yet, if you catch my drift.”_

Caleb looked up and stared down the long, dark hallway. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

_“But, that’s what that helmet you got is for! Put it on when they get to your room and sit still, and, when they get there, the idiots’ll think you’re just another animatronic, and fuck off back to the main stage. And yeah, there aren’t any doors. You share that desk with Information, as well as Lost and Found, and corporate says that area needs to be as open and receiving as possible. So no doors for you.”_

“I noticed that, funnily enough,” said Caleb. He flipped through the cameras again, and froze.

Where before there had been three animatronics, now only two sat in the main court.

Mogar was gone.

_“Hmm…what else do you need to know…”_ Papers shuffled again. _“You have a light that you can shine into the rooms, and lights installed in both vents to your sides, as well as one that flashes down the hall in front of you. Good for revealing anything in the rooms. You do need to be careful though, ‘cause even though the building can’t run out of power, the emergency lights can, so use it sparingly.”_

Oh. That made sense. Caleb returned to the laptop and started flipping through the cameras again. This time he could actually see all the details of the rooms he’d missed before. Paper plates and party hats on the tables, posters and children’s drawings on the walls, the little carousel in the arcade room-

Hold on.

Caleb tapped the button for Party Room Four. Mogar sat on one of the tables. His sword lay across his lap, arms posed over it like he was whetting the blade. His brown eyes bore into the camera, plastic lips parted ever so slightly to reveal teeth that were far too straight and white.

_“Oh! Fuck! Almost forgot! So, there’s one animatronic that’s, well, different. Tab over to the prize room real quick.”_

Caleb was loath to take his eyes off Mogar but did what he was told. His fingers curled around the helmet and squeezed tight.

At first glance, the prize room (or the Hall of Bounty as Caleb refused to call it) looked fairly normal. Plushies and dolls covered the shelves, and he could see a poster of the various animatronics on the back wall. He shone the light into the room. A gigantic golden tower sat in the corner between the prize counter and the back wall. It shone in the light, and if Caleb looked closely, he could see the seams between blocks, and the black and purple block the gold sat on.

_“Okay, so, the original roster was shit, so it was switched up to the current formation. But, what that means is…you see that little ‘reset’ button on your device? And the timer in the upper lefthand corner? Those are for this guy. If that timer gets to zero, it starts playing…uh…fuck… ‘Hail to the King’ I think it’s called? Which signals the start of the big floor show. We don’t want that going off, because…well…there isn’t a floor show at night. Obviously. And the animatronic who’s supposed to start it off and announce it to the crowd, uh, he’ll be really pissed off if he gets to the High Court and there's nobody there. So don’t let that timer reach zero.”_

Caleb hit the reset button. A little loading bar popped up on screen, and when it finished, the timer reset. God, he could already tell that was going to be annoying. He tabbed back through the other cameras, and nearly startled out of his chair. Mogar had jammed his face as close to the camera in Party Room Three as he could get it. Caleb could practically make out every single airbrushed freckle on his face, he was so close.

_“Welp, that’s about it for tonight. Should be a fucking cakewalk. Later!”_

The recording disconnected with a loud click.

Caleb checked on the main stage again. Sir Geoffrey now stood by himself in the High Court. He swallowed and tabbed through the cameras one by one. Mogar now crouched beside one of the vents in Party Room Two. Those eyes still drilled holes into the camera. Caleb set the helmet on top of his head, but didn’t pull it down just yet. He looked over at the clock in the upper righthand corner. Three am. Halfway there.

After frantically tabbing through all the rooms, he found Pattillo at the very back of the hall. Somewhere along the way, he’d removed the faceplate from his helmet. Beneath the dull blue plastic, there was nothing even close to resembling a human face, probably because he wasn’t meant to remove the helmet. An endoskeleton skull sat in the empty space of his helmet, hovering unsettlingly above the straight plastic line of his bearded neck. It had eight straight, perfectly square teeth set in a line beneath two little white eye-lights. It stared into the camera, or at least, it _looked_ like it was staring into the camera. He held his arms out on either side of him and hunched over, almost like a gorilla.

Caleb shivered and shone the light down the hall. He didn’t see anything, but that was of little comfort to him.

A loud thump sounded somewhere to his right. It was…close. Uncomfortably close. He flipped through all the live feeds until he stumbled upon one he didn’t recognize. It looked like the inside of one of the vents on either side of him. Huh. Hadn’t realized the company put any cameras in the vents. The fuck would they need cameras in the vents for? Out of curiosity, he hit the button to trigger the lights.

Mogar glared back at him, practically glowing in the bright white light. He had crammed his entire plastic body into the metal vent somehow, and in the confined space his frame looked especially bulky and awkward. Somehow, when the bright light hit his eyes, it reflected back in a way that made them look pitch black. His jaw drooped open to the point where Caleb could see his shallow plastic gullet.

He glanced over to his right. Only a flimsy metal grill sat between him and the advancing bot. He scooted his chair away from it and brought the camera back up. Mogar was still in the vent, but Pattillo had moved into the other party room, opposite party room two. His naked face stared up at the camera while he posed mid-crouch, ready to push himself into the vent.

“What the…fuckin’ go away, you…” Caleb shone the light at him and blinked it as much as he dared. All it did was highlight just how small the endoskeleton head was inside Pattillo’s gigantic helmet. After a solid fifteen seconds of blinking, the feed fuzzed out. Caleb switched between all the feeds and landed on one that looked promising. Bunches of metal wires hung from the ceiling, and a garbled, staticky sound vibrated throughout the little room. Caleb squinted but couldn’t make anything out. According to the label beside the button, this was the camera for the Throne Room, where the toddlers were supposed to play, but there seemed to be no sign of the little tables or toys anywhere. He drew a little closer and thumbed the light switch.

Through the vinelike wires, Caleb saw the ornate gold and red throne and a few plastic tables with papers, crayons and toys strewn all over them. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out where the noise could be coming from. He squinted and noticed a disorganized trash pile next to the throne. Upon further inspection he made out a bent endoskeleton arm and a crooked hand poking out of the side. A broken plastic tuxedo cuff encircled the hand’s wrist. A discarded crown lay next to the extended fingers.

Something clanked to his right. Caleb set the camera down and looked over at the vent cover. Two white pinpricks gleamed between the slats. Plastic fingers rattled along the edges and pushed until a little gap appeared between the cover and the wall.

Caleb crammed the helmet down on his head and sat back in the chair. Immediately he noticed how small and uncomfortable the helmet was, and God, he could not see _anything_ through that stupid yellow visor. His breath quickly heated up the interior, to the point where moisture beaded on his cheeks and forehead.

The vent door slammed aside completely and clattered over the floor. A dark shape appeared in the office and stopped in front of the desk. Caleb held his breath and stared back at it. It moved closer and leaned toward him. He could only just make out the white pinpricks at the center of his eyes.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

“Hmph.”

The lights blinked a few times, and then the animatronic turned on its heel and walked down the hallway. Caleb waited a few seconds before pushing the helmet off his face. Empty. Thank God. He reached out and pointed the fan directly at his face. Much better.

A tiny klaxon sounded from his computer, and a little red light blinked in the upper left-hand corner. Caleb frowned and turned the monitor back on. A little red triangle with an exclamation point in it flashed in the camera feed’s corner. What was going-

Oh.

Oh shit.

He’d plumb forgotten about the animatronic in the prize room. He flipped to that camera and hit reset. The loading bar appeared on screen and filled ever so slowly. Oh God the timer had almost run out already. He swallowed and eyed the golden tower. He swore the front panels had opened slightly, and a little green light winked at him in the darkness. Then the loading finished, the timer reset, and the feed went fuzzy. When it came back up a few moments later, everything looked normal.

Caleb drew back and checked his watch. Four AM. Jesus, would this night never end?

He flashed the light down the hallway and yelped. Sir Geoff stood in the hallway. He had to stoop to stare at Caleb due to how tall he was. His visor pulsed with light, a steady one-two pattern, like the beating of a heart.

A clang sounded to his left this time. He brought up the other vent’s camera and saw Pattillo’s horrifying mug staring back at him. He looked even more uncomfortably cramped than Mogar had, due to his bulk being much larger than the bearman’s. Those tiny white lights fixated on the camera, and its jaw had opened somewhat.

Shit.

Caleb checked the hallway light. Sir Geoff was now in the doorway. His visor light beat faster, a pulse matching the quickening in Caleb’s veins. His armored hands curled like claws down beside him.

Double shit.

A fist thumped on the vent cover. One of the little screws shot out and pinged across the floor.

Caleb pulled the helmet down over his face and hunkered down in his chair. His breath, amplified by the tiny plastic confines, panted especially loud in his ears. Through the foggy visor, he watched the gigantic bot pull itself free of the vent and stand upright. It bent and stared at Caleb, tiny white lights flicking over his head and body.

_‘Just go away, just go away, just go away, just go away…’_ he chanted in his head.

_Whirr – click – whirr - click_

The animatronic straightened and left without a word. Caleb pushed the helmet off his head just in time to see Sir Geoff bend under the jamb and pull himself into the room. Every single light in the office flickered, and the pulsing behind the bot’s visor was going seizure fast now. Caleb pulled the helmet back down.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click – whirr – click_

That light appeared in front of Caleb’s blurry vision. Its flashing had slowed down now, and a low humming thrummed in the bot’s chest. The animatronic let out a chuff and moved back into the darkness. Caleb counted down from ten before pulling the helmet off completely.

The office was empty again. Thank goodness.

Trembling slightly, Caleb checked all the cameras. Sir Geoff was already back on stage, Mogar was back in Party Room Four, and Pattillo stood in the hall. The power for his lights sat at a solid fifty percent. He checked on the prize room and reset the timer, just to be safe.

A pair of feet thumped in the distance. Nobody was on the main stage anymore. It was five AM. He just had to make it one more hour, and then he could go home.

Caleb wiped the sweat off his forehead and bent over the monitor. Sir Geoff lurked in the arcade now. Mogar crouched beside the vent again. Pattillo did the same in the other room. He reset the timer in the prize room again and crossed his fingers.

Static fuzzed across the camera feed, and when Caleb checked again, Mogar had moved into the vent. Pattillo still crouched in the party room, thankfully. Sir Geoff was no longer in the main arcade room. He reset the timer one last time and pulled the helmet back over his head. As long as he stayed in here, he’d be fine, right? It didn’t matter who the fuck came in here as long as he had the helmet on.

Time crawled to a stop within the plastic helmet. His breath fogged up the visor again and beaded on his cheeks. Thumps sounded all around him. Through the fractured yellowness he saw Mogar enter the office and look around. A growl rumbled low in his chest. He turned and fixed Caleb with a stare.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

“I _know_ there’s someone here.”

Caleb twitched at the sound of the bot’s voice but said nothing. After a moment’s waiting, Mogar turned and left with a huff. He waited again. Nothing happened. He kept waiting. A thump sounded from his left. His fingers curled around the seat of the chair. Sweat beaded on the small of his back. A hiss of releasing pressure. He shut his eyes and cringed back in his chair.

Then the lights shut off for a few brief seconds and came back on. Caleb waited a few seconds before peeking out from under his helmet. The room was completely empty. That same silence had fallen back over the entire establishment. He checked his watch.

Six AM. Thank God.

He slowly rose from his chair and left the helmet in the seat. He brushed his sweaty palms against his slacks and moved slowly through the restaurant. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to reach the employees’ area due to him constantly checking over his shoulders. Even though they had stopped moving, he couldn’t help but feel unsafe moving around in the open like this.

God, as soon as the stupid restaurant opened, he was gonna give the manager a piece of his mind. Maybe make him push for a proper night mode. Those things were fucking dangerous.

If they weren’t careful, they might even end up killing someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite some time, hasn't it?
> 
> I didn't mean to go so very long without posting, but a lot has been happening this past month or so, and I haven't really gotten a good chance to write until now. I ended up switching jobs, and I'm much happier where I am now, plus my bro came home for the summer. I won't say it's all been fun and games; there was quite a bit of stress for a little while, but I'm good now.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapters won't take so long. I do plan on finishing this story, and I have at least one more to tell later on.
> 
> See ya later!
> 
> -vW


	3. Cutscene #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember interludes? Those are fun.

The manager rushed down the hallway and flung open the door to the Throne Room. He skidded to a halt and stared. His mouth dropped open and his face lost all color.

“I don’t know what happened,” the employee sobbed, “One of the moms…she found him like this…she thought the kids might’ve roughed him up or something…I don’t know what to do!”

The manager didn’t answer. His attention rested solely on the wrecked animatronic laying across the floor. Jagged pieces of plastic clothing surrounded it like flower petals. Its metal body had been twisted horribly out of shape, and one blue eye had rolled under a nearby table. Its face had been turned away from them.

The manager kicked a piece of kilt away and crouched down next to the bot. Its head looked largely undamaged save for the missing eye. Several wires hung out of its mouth, and the white animatronic eyes at the center of its sockets flickered and dimmed.

“Who else knows about this?” he asked. “You mentioned a mother who told you what had happened. Does anyone else know?”

She shook her head. “Nobody else.”

He turned the animatronic’s head toward him. “Personnel ID 104013-7. Majesty, respond.”

Sparks burst from several of the animatronic’s joints, and it seized and spasmed like mad. Its jaw opened, closed, opened again, and static burst from its audio box. Squeals, chitters and chirps crackled in the dead air for some time, and the manager thought its audio broken beyond repair.

_“Urk – ack – gleh – A-a-a-a-al-alas! Poor Ryan!”_ said the bot. The voice was tinny and squeaky, like it was coming from the wrong end of a walkie-talkie. Its eyelids fluttered, and its blue eye rolled and roved like mad. _“I-I-I-I-I-I-I cannot f-f-feel…Are you there?”_

“This is bad,” the employee whimpered. “It hasn’t even been one day yet!”

“Hush!” The manager turned back to the bot. “Personnel ID 104013-7. Acknowledge maintenance override. Majesty, what _happened_ to you?”

The animatronic cackled. Both humans flinched away from the shrieking noise.

_“I-I-I know enough of hate…the king is shrouded in darkness…w-w-what am I? Those eyes…red as sin…I am a fake!”_

“Shit…shit!” The manager backed away and ran his hands through his hair. “It’s not even responding to the maintenance overrides…” He whipped around and locked eyes with the employee. “Get Mr. Sorola on the phone. Tell him it’s an emergency.”

“I…yes! Right away!” She ran out the door and pattered back down the hallway.

The manager let out a breath and turned back to the animatronic. He startled back when he came face to face with the destroyed machine. That mad double grin filled his vision, and the animatronic stumbled forward. Its mouth flopped open and more static poured from the cracked jaw.

_“What have you let in? Argh – urt – pteh – I-I-I-I-I-I am not an it! I am not an it! I am not an it! I AM NOT AN IT!”_

The manager fumbled behind him for the doorknob. “Security! Get in here! Code Alpha! CODE FUCKING ALPHA!”

The animatronic laughed and stuttered. It fell to the ground and caught itself with a stubby limb. Four eyes fixed on him, unblinking, staring, rolling madly.

_“H-h-he-heh ha heh! I am NOT an it!”_


	4. Night 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his best efforts, Caleb returns to the restaurant for another night.

As soon as Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World opened for the next business day, Caleb stormed through the double doors. He ignored the hordes of children and made for the employees’ area in the back, where he knew he would find his stupid fucking manager. God, if it was _his_ bright idea to get animatronics with no freaking night mode enabled…well, Caleb wouldn’t exactly be a happy camper. In fact, he’d be a very _unhappy_ camper.

It was eleven fifteen when Caleb arrived, and the floor show was in full swing. A gaggle of children swarmed around the High Court and watched the robots prance around on stage. Caleb glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. He recognized the three main stage bots, of course, but the fourth one was…unfamiliar, to say the least. It was tall and skinny and dressed mostly in mottled green pseudo-camouflage, save for its bright golden knee-high boots. An actual cloth scarf covered most of its lower face and a pair of gigantic black goggles covered its eyes and pushed up its overly styled plastic hair. Its movements were more uncoordinated and clumsy than the others, and while Caleb watched, it wobbled on the edge of the stage and toppled to the ground.

“Oh no!”

“Stupid Jester! That’s what you get!” Caleb flinched at the harsh sound of Mogar’s voice. He remembered all too well how it snarled at him in the darkness. “Serves ‘im right.”

The crowd shrieked with laughter, and a moment later, the Jester bounced back up, none the worse for wear. He leaped back onto stage and smacked Mogar with a tiny plastic dagger. In response, the bearman drew his diamantine sword and chased the Jester off the stage again.

Caleb decided he’d seen more than enough and headed down the hallway toward the Employees Only area. This area was much, much quieter than the showroom, and was populated only by a few red-eyed employees dressed in cheap Renaissance outfits. Most of them didn’t even spare Caleb a glance when he passed by, intent on reaching the Administration Offices.

His manager jumped about a foot in the air when Caleb stomped in and slammed his hands down on the desk.

“You’ve got some _goddamn_ nerve, you know!”

“I…I don’t…” His manager swallowed. “I’ve got enough on my plate without _you_ barging in like this.”

“What. The Hell. Is up. With the goddamn _robots?!_ ”

“Nothing! Uh, I mean, why would anything be wrong with them? They’re state of the art, best on the market!”

“You know what I mean! They don’t have a sleep mode! They wandered around last night and tried to get into my office! I…I _feared_ for my life, you know!”

“Oh, not this again!” The manager groaned and pushed his hair out of his face. “Like I told the last guy who worked here, there is _nothing_ wrong with the animatronics! Yes, they get a little… _squirrelly_ at night, but there is nothing to worry about. They’re harmless. Safe as milk.”

“I don’t know what milk _you’re_ drinking…” Caleb muttered.

“I heard that,” said the manager. His mouth set into a stern line. “This simply _isn’t_ a concern, Denecour. Believe me, we’ve got enough on our plates already. Don’t go fussing over the robots. There’s tens of thousands of dollars of work put into them, it can’t exactly go wrong that quickly.”

Caleb couldn’t help but notice how his manager shuffled a few key papers on his desk away. Then he remembered something he had noticed during his night shift. “So…if they can’t go wrong that quickly…why are there only four robots on stage when all of the posters have _five_ robots on them?”

His manager’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “ _That_ …is none of your business, sir.”

“Oh my god…is that trash-pile in the Throne Room-”

“ _That_ was _sabotage!_ ” His manager’s palm slammed down on the desk. “There is nothing wrong with this establishment! Nothing at all!” He stood up and jammed his finger in Caleb’s face. “One. More. _Word_. Out of that mouth of yours. And _I’ll_ personally see to it that you have _no_ future to speak of, Frisbee Boy.”

Well, _that_ was a low blow. Caleb tried to think of a reply to that but came up with squat. At least, none of the replies he thought of would end with him keeping his job. He bit his lip and looked down at the black and white floor.

“That’s what I thought.” The manager’s chair let out a loud squeak when he set his full weight down upon it. “You’re lucky we aren’t looking for new talent right now, or you’d be out on your dumb ass.” Caleb didn’t answer. “Look at me, Denecour.” He locked eyes with him. “You’re going to come in for your shift like normal. Twelve AM on the dot. You’ll watch over the place and make sure none of the other robots come to any harm. If you do well by the end of the week, I _might_ consider moving you to the day shift. Is that satisfactory?”

“Maybe,” said Caleb.

“It’s a yes or no question, Caleb.”

“Yes, then.”

“Good. Now, get out of my office.”

Almost on cue, the phone rang. Caleb walked out of the office and leaned against the wall for a moment. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make out any of the conversation, so he pushed away and started walking.

Well, that was a fucking disaster. Not only had he entirely failed to strongarm his manager in any way, shape or form, he had also pledged himself to working the rest of the week on night shift. Alone. With nobody except the robots for company. Dangerous fucking killer robots.

Caleb strode down the hallway and back out into the main room. Immediately he slammed into someone and fell flat on his ass.

“Goddammit, I’m sorry, are you…” He paused when he saw two glittery gold boots posed perfectly in front of him. Caleb looked up and saw the Jester staring back at him. Its scarf had slipped off its nose a little bit. While Caleb watched, it reached up and pulled it down completely.

Holy shit.

Its fucking mouth looked… _horrific._ It was all black, and where its lips should have been were simply jagged tears of plastic, stretched out from ear to ear, like a jack o’ lantern’s carved smile. Its jaw worked slightly, and two little green lights blinked in and out of existence in its dark goggles.

“I _know_ you,” it said. Its voice had a soft British lilt to it.

“I get that a lot,” said Caleb.

The Jester ignored him. It bent down and tilted its head. “You…you were _naughty_ last night, weren’t you?”

“How would you know? You weren’t-” Caleb stopped himself. “You’re a robot, why the hell am I even talking to you?” He turned away and moved to step around the Jester. “I have to leave, so-”

Something caught him across his stomach. Caleb glanced up and locked eyes with the Jester again. One gloved hand rested against his stomach, and five thin fingers curled around his hip.

“The King told me all about you… _Caleb_.” He shuddered when it said his name and squirmed in its grasp. “Have you looked in the back room?”

“No?”

“Hmm…maybe you should. But maybe you shouldn’t. There’s a lot back there, Caleb. Things they don’t want you to see. Old things. Secret things.”

“You know I don’t care, right?”

Suddenly Caleb was spun around, and that horrible face was a mere inch away from his own. Its mouth gaped wide open, and a giggle bubbled within its plastic chest.

“Oh, but you _should,_ Caleb. You _should_ care. The longer you all stay in here…the more _restless_ they get.” The Jester drew back and let out a giggle. “But that’s spoiling. I shouldn’t spoil. Spoiling’s rude, you know.” It drew its scarf back up over its face. “I’ll see you tonight, won’t I?”

“I certainly fucking hope not.”

The Jester let out a hiss. “Well, _that_ was rude.” It tilted its head again and folded its arms over its chest. “Whether or not I see you tonight…you’ll be here.”

With that, it straightened and moved back into the arcade. Caleb rubbed the spot on his hip it had grabbed and shuddered.

Was he really coming back for another night?

…

Did he really have a choice in the matter?

* * *

 

Hours and hours later, after a long nap and an even longer search of the local job listings, Caleb reluctantly drove back to Achievelandia Fantasy Fun World. Like it or not, it was the best option available for a perpetually broke athlete like himself. It was this, or move back in with his parents and subject himself to a thousand snide comments about his entire life.

…Maybe the killer robots weren’t so bad after all.

Sure.

He entered through the employees’ area again and crept quietly through the restaurant. This time, Caleb couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Dozens of dead eyes appeared to follow him through the empty rooms. He cast an eye over the High Court and shuddered at the drawn curtain. He knew they were there.

He knew they were waiting.

By the time he reached his desk, he had a scant minute to himself to prepare. He perched the helmet on top of his head, and then the clock struck midnight. On cue, the phone rang, and he went for the cameras.

_“A-yo! Told ya you’d make it through the first night okay! It’s easy! Like riding a bike!”_

Caleb half listened to the call. Already Mogar had left the stage and moved into one of the Party Rooms. He scowled into the camera and bared his plastic teeth. He tabbed over to the prize room and groaned. The timer had decreased by a substantial amount already. God, _that_ was going to be a bitch to watch. Then he remembered the Jester’s jack o’ lantern grin and resolved to watch the fucker like a goddamn hawk.

_“By now, I’m sure you’ve seen the guys in the back room. Those are the old models, from back before the whole fantasy schtick. They’re just for parts now.”_

Caleb hadn’t actually seen them and so pushed the button for Parts and Service. Without the light it didn’t look like there was anything at all in there, so he’d ignored it for the most part. He thumbed the light switch and beheld the room in all its glory.

Four robots lay across the plain tile floor in various poses. He recognized Mogar’s face, even though half of its fleshy head appeared to have been torn off, but the other three were largely unfamiliar. All of them had large rips across their bodies that exposed their robotic parts, chunks of missing flesh and even missing limbs. Three of them were propped up against the wall and stared at the ground. Mogar’s predecessor lay on his back and stared up at the camera with a grin fixed on his rotting face. The light gleamed off his exposed, square-shaped metal skull and shadowed the hollow socket containing the endoskeleton eye.

Ugh. Like this place wasn’t creepy enough already without four robot corpses in the backroom.

_“Y’know, at first, we were gonna repair them. Spiff ‘em up and ship ‘em out, as it were, but, uh, they don’t really fit the theme, and they’re fugly as hell. Smell like shit, too. Thus, we’ve got our fantasy crew. Uh…let’s see…the, uh, the old robots… **shouldn’t** be able to walk around…but if they do…your helmet should work on them too. They’re all idiots, so…yeah.”_

Well, that wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Caleb had enough problems with four animatronics on his ass, he didn’t need any more! He tabbed back to the prize room and reset the timer again. While he sat there watching the bar reset, the dark picture turned to static, and a brief error message flashed across the screen. A godawful shrieky static noise played from the speakers and the picture came back. Caleb squinted at the dark image. Something…something looked…off. He reached over and switched the light on.

Holy fucking _Jesus._

There was a fucking _animatronic_ on the goddamned _ceiling._ He could see its miscellaneous metal parts shining in the light. All of them appeared to be in the wrong place, like an action figure taken apart and put back together by someone who had no idea what a human body was supposed to look like. Here and there Caleb could make out bits of plastic body parts sticking out of the tangled metal web. Its plastic head hung upside-down in the center of the mess and grinned at the camera. One blue eye had been ripped out of its face, its mouth was locked into a permanent open grin, and wires trailed out of either side of its lips. A separate endo-skull dangled off one of its longer limbs. It too bore one blue eye, though if it had an empty socket, it was covered by a broken crown perched almost jauntily upon its head.

It took Caleb a moment to realize this was the trashpile he’d seen in the Throne Room the night before. An uneasy feeling sized his insides; how the hell could that thing even _move?_ It had looked destroyed beyond belief, torn into tiny little shreds. That it could still move and be coherent enough to gun for the office…god, who _made_ these things?!

He was so startled by this he had almost forgotten he was in danger, and that the night’s message was still playing. While he checked the other cameras, the man on the tape continued.

_“You know, I fucking love those old characters. Y’know, the way Michael and Gavin’d always chase each other around and Ryan’d always watch like a disappointed father and stuff. Good memories. Wait. Uh, wait. Hold on. Shit, Ryan, fuck! Uh, listen, Ryan…he’s a little…finnicky. That helmet trick isn’t gonna work on him, so…when…uh, if you see him in your hallway for some reason…flash him. With your light, I mean. The old models are hardcoded to respond to bright, flashing lights. Supposed to trigger a system restart. Actually, might want to try that on all of them. It won’t be as easy to trigger in the new ones, but if it works, it works, right?”_

Caleb immediately flashed the light down the hallway. There was nothing there as of yet, but that did nothing to ease the heavy feeling in his bowels. It wasn’t even one AM yet and he already had two new problems on his plate. Jesus shit.

_“Lastly, don’t you forget that timer. Honestly, not a big fan of what they did to Gav. That Jester’s just…creepy. You can never know what he’s thinking. Anyway, sure you’ve got everything under control. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Buh bye.”_

The message clicked off, and the only resemblance Caleb had to human company was gone.

Fuck.

He flipped back through all the cameras and paused to reset the timer again. The animatronic on the ceiling had gone, but that was of little comfort to him. As soon as the timer had reset he was off through the other cameras, searching for any sign of robots. Mogar was in the vents already, the other two had moved off the stage, and there was no sign of the wrecked king-bot.

While he tabbed through the cameras looking for the other robots, Caleb noticed something…off about the main arcade room. He lingered there for a few moments and scanned over it several times. Something had changed, he could _feel_ it, he just didn’t know _what._ There were the murals on the walls, the rows of cabinets, the little carousel in the middle of the mess, and the deflated bouncy castle by the…

Wait.

Caleb looked at the carousel again. There was a gap there that didn’t make any sense. The chicken and the pig looked further apart than the pig and the sheep did.

Almost like one of the animals had gotten up and walked away.

_‘Christ, I hope I’m wrong about that.’_

He didn’t have time to ponder this further, as the banging in the vents indicated the rapid approach of animatronics. Caleb barely had time to reset the Jester’s timer before jamming the helmet on his head and waiting. Mogar wasted no time in entering the room, unimpeded by a vent cover this time around, and stared at Caleb for several long, long moments. He could make out Mogar’s fists opening and closing, over and over.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

“You’re here, I just _know_ it.”

Then the bot walked away, and Caleb lifted the helmet from his brow.

God, he felt so… _exposed_ doing this. Like he was one mistake away from the Pearly Gates.

Caleb went and tabbed through the cameras again. Mogar was back in Party Room Four. Pattillo crouched beside the vent in Party Room One. There was no sign of Sir Geoff or the trashed king anywhere. He reset the timer in the prize room again, just to be safe.

A thump sounded in the hallway. He leaped in his chair and looked up. Something winked in the hallway, and a low buzzing ululated, slowly growing louder and louder. He reached over and hit the button for the hallway light. It flickered and buzzed two or three times before finally clicking and illuminating the hallway.

The missing trash-bot grinned at him from the ceiling over the doorway. Its forehead rested on the upper jamb, and its various parts appeared to frame around it like some macabre flower. Its second head dangled off to the side of its body, crown looking a movement away from falling to the ground. Behind it, further in the distance, Caleb could only just make out two red lights framed by a shadowy outline.

That must be the Ryan animatronic mentioned in the call. The one the mask wouldn’t work on.

Caleb pummeled the button for the hallway light as fast and hard as he could. It flashed and flickered like a strobe, over and over and over again. An entire bar of power drained away with his repeated attempts. Both animatronics stared back at him, immobile, and for a moment, he was sure he was doomed.

Then the light stopped working altogether. He pressed the button a few more times. It sputtered and fizzed and did nothing. Thumps and squeaks sounded from the hall, and a light winked once before vanishing. He slammed his palm down on the button.

This time, the light came back on and lit the hallway up once more. The animatronic at the far end had gone, presumably retreating back into the restaurant. The trash-bot had moved back down the hall and now stuck out sideways from one of the doors. Its second head nuzzled up to the first and almost tucked its crown under the first’s plastic jaw. A plastic hand stuck out from its chest and gripped the wall and a plastic purple flower glittered up by the animatronic’s right ear.

Caleb flashed the bot a few more times before giving up and returning to the monitor. He could deal with the thing in due time. Right now he needed to focus on the other robots. Speaking of, as soon as he looked back at the cameras, the orange warning sign flashed in the corner, and when he looked, the timer was moments away from depleting completely. The tower cracked open, and that same green light poured from within. He thought he could see the Jester’s broken grin in the shadows, partly illuminated by the sickly light.

He could not hit that reset button fast enough.

A scant moment after the timer reset, Caleb heard something from the left vent. It sounded like…a…moo? He frowned and tabbed over to the left vent cam. He couldn’t see shit without the light on, so he reached over and switched it on.

What in the…?

A little brown and gray cow stared back at him with unblinking button black eyes. Its nubby legs splayed out beneath it, and if he wasn’t sitting out in the open with robots gunning for him from all angles, Caleb might have bust out laughing. He could imagine a thousand different ways the other bots could kill him, but this tiny thing? What would it do? Headbutt his ankles with those itty bitty horns? Kick him in the shins? Nibble on his feet?

Well at least he figured out why the carousel looked so weird now.

He allowed himself a chuckle while he checked on the other bots. Pattillo had moved back into the other hallway, presumably because his usual point of entry was blocked. The trashpile hung on the ceiling over the Majordomo’s head. Mogar already crouched beside his own vent entryway. Sir Geoff lurked in the arcade room. So Mogar was really the only thing he needed to worry about for the time being. Unless…

He checked back in on Parts and Service. The four bots were still strewn over the floor, but another, fifth bot stood in their midst. Before Caleb could get a good look at it, the connection dropped, and when it returned, it had gone.

Ryan, perhaps?

Another moo sounded from the vent, closer this time. Caleb looked over and saw a tiny plastic muzzle jut out from the darkness. He let out a snort and pulled the helmet down over his face. Its pink nose bobbed several more times, almost like it was scenting the air. Then it scuttled around and scurried back into the vent.

What the fuck.

He pushed the helmet back up and flipped through the cameras again. Pattillo had already moved into the vent in the cow’s stead. Mogar had also entered his own vent on the other side. There was no sign of Sir Geoff anymore. The trashed king clung to the wall in Party Room One and grinned up at the camera. Its jaw had flopped open again, and if Caleb looked closely, he could see its second set of metal teeth jutting out of the cracked plastic inside its mouth. Interestingly enough, its crown now perched atop its plastic head, rather than the endoskeleton one.

He reset the Jester’s timer again and pulled the helmet down over his head. It would do him a world of good to wait out Pattillo and Mogar before continuing on. God, it killed him to wait on them. Like waiting for the Grim Reaper to crawl into his room and pass its terrible judgement.

Pattillo made it there first. He hauled himself out of the vent and stood in the middle of the room for a good few seconds. His head slowly turned to where Caleb sat.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

Then, without a word, he turned and left the room.

A scant minute later, Mogar returned and strode in front of the desk. He bent down as far as his plastic body would allow and stuck his face right up against Caleb’s helmet. Through the warped yellow plastic, their eyes met.

Caleb hardly dared to breathe. Mogar just kept… _staring…_ at him. One of his plastic hands clenched and unclenched at his side, and for a moment, he made like he was going to reach toward Caleb’s head. His hand grew so close Caleb could see the open gaps between his plastic fingers, and the metal skeleton within them.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

“What the fuck _are_ you?!”

Mogar’s hand clenched again and smashed down on the desk. He growled and turned on his heel. He turned back and stared at him again, let out another snarl, and rushed back down the hallway. Caleb watched the animatronic fade into the darkness and waited an extra breath to take the mask off. Several beads of moisture dripped down his cheeks once they were freed from the mask, and the rush of cold air on his skin was amazing.

God he hated that plastic death cage.

He brushed his wet hair back and looked down the hallway. That…presence, for lack of a better word, was there again. Caleb reached down and switched his light on.

That animatronic – Ryan? – stood at the end of the hallway and stared at him with burning crimson eyes. Its burly metal skeleton lacked one arm, but the arm it did have was tipped with needle-sharp fingers. Tatters of flesh and clothing still hung on the naked limbs, with the majority of those clinging tightly to his torso and head. If he squinted, he could almost see the logo on the remains of its t-shirt. Caleb couldn’t make out its face, though. Maybe it was drowned out by the enormous amount of red light pouring from its eyes.

Caleb decided he didn’t want to find out any more and began flashing his light again. It stood there and stared back at him with those sin-red eyes. He flashed it over and over and over again, painfully aware of how limited his power was. He could make out its bearded jaw now, and two rows of teeth stuck out of it like gravestones.

He continued flashing his light.

After a moment, his light stopped working again. A low murmuring noise grumbled in the distance, and he heard the clanging of two metal feet. When he checked the light again, the hall was empty.

For now, at least.

He looked down and checked his table. Thankfully Mogar’s fist had hit the table itself, and not any of the important shit _on_ the table. Though the dent he’d left in the metal wasn’t exactly encouraging. God, if he could do that to the _table…_ Caleb was _fucked_ in his stupid ass.

For the first time that night, Caleb checked his watch. God, _how_ was it only 3:30 in the morning? He felt like he’d been here for _years!_

First order of business was checking on that stupid Jester thing. It had decreased quite a bit since he’d last checked, and goddamn he was sure it was going faster every time he looked away. As soon as that was done, he set about locating every single stupid robot in the place. Pattillo had moved back into the hallway. Mogar scowled up at him from Party Room four, sword posed across his lap again. There was no sign of Sir Geoff or the trash-bot again. The little cow from the carousel had moved back into his vent.

Caleb looked away and flicked the overhead light on again. Sir Geoff stood up against the doorway and stared right at him. That light behind his visor flashed and blinked and throbbed, almost angrily. His hand braced against the doorway and made Caleb painfully aware of just how much… _larger_ the animatronic was than him.

How very _easy_ killing him would be.

Caleb checked how much juice his flashlight still had. It had gone down to about 50% power, by the looks of it, though the picture was hardly informative. He pulled the helmet down and hunkered down in his chair. That yellow light filled the room and a shadow blotted out his vision.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

Five armored fingers rattled upon the desk. Caleb imagined them wrapping around his neck, and forced himself to hold his breath.

Finally, the hulking monster swung around on its heel and stomped out of the room. He checked on the others the moment Sir Geoff left. Mogar was already back in the vent. Pattillo joined him on the other side. Sir Geoff stood back on the main stage. The wrecked king sprawled on the ground next to the same vent entrance Mogar had vanished into and leered up at the camera. There was no sign of the little cow anywhere, and the Jester’s timer had nearly depleted.

He reset the timer first, and checked on the hallway second. Thankfully it was empty this time. The same could not be said for the vents. Mogar and Pattillo were already back in the vents and making a beeline for him. The King looked like he was right on Mogar’s heels. While he watched the cameras, a moo played softly from his lefthand side.

God-fucking-dammit.

Caleb checked the hallway again and reset the timer again. Scrabbling rang out from the vent, and two sets of fingers wrapped around each of the jambs. He swallowed and watched the bar fill to completion. Once the timer had reset, he pulled the mask back on and proceeded to wait.

Mogar burst into the room and spun in place. Growls reverberated in his throat; Caleb could feel the chair and desk vibrate with the intensity. He stomped up to the desk and leaned down as far as he could go. His plastic eyes blinked furiously, and his dead, plastic brown eyes flicked over Caleb’s visor again and again.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click – whirr – click_

“There’s somebody _fucking_ here and I fucking _know_ it!”

Another blur loomed behind Mogar. A low rumble joined the growling spilling from Mogar’s chest.

“The fuck do you want? He’s not fucking here, asshole. Fuck off.”

The other robot shouldered past Mogar and leaned down himself.

_Whirr – click – whirr – click_

“I don’t know, I don’t know how he fucking _does_ it, but he’s _here,_ he’s _here_ and I fucking _know_ it! I can fucking _feel_ it!”

Mogar paced around the office. The growling turned into a terrible mechanical chawing, pitching up and down in the robot’s chest.

“I swear to fuck I can hear the bastard _breathing_ …”

Pattillo stood there silently, and then, without a word, turned on his heel and padded back out into the darkness. A few moments later, Mogar snarled and stomped out behind him.

Caleb gave it a minute or so before removing the helmet. The emptiness before him did nothing to reduce his fear. Even the shadows around the door looked menacing; little glimmers in the darkness shining like bared fangs and claws.

He checked on the Jester again. Why that timer reduced so quickly he had no idea. Maybe it was an attention thing? Like, maybe if he watched it a little more closely it would reduce a little slower? Like a watched pot never boils thing?

God he had no ide-

A noise bubbled in the near distance, breaking Caleb out of his train of thought. He reached out and reset the timer again. God, it always took so fucking long to reset the fucking thing. He shifted in his seat and pushed his face closer to the screen.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon you stupid sonuva…”

The noise grew louder and louder, accompanied now by a rattly, skittery sort of noise. Something rumbled in the mechanical chatter, fading here, pitching there.

It sounded strangely like laughter.

Finally the timer finished resetting and Caleb immediately flipped between the other cameras. Nothing in the right vent. Tiny cow in the left vent. Pattillo crouched by the vent entrance. Mogar lurked in the hallway. He couldn’t see Sir Geoff or the King anywhere.

Goddammit, finally a fucking break-

A ball dropped down from the ceiling, pinged off his desk and bounced onto the floor. Caleb blinked and watched it roll around the office. It came to a halt in the middle of the floor and pitched a bit on its axis. With a start, he realized it was a round, plastic blue eye, idly staring at him and rocking back and forth.

On the heels of that realization came the fact that the static had never faded, either.

Caleb swallowed, shuddered, and slowly made himself look up.

The King stared back down at him and grinned. Its frame fanned out over the ceiling, wires and plastic shreds alike hanging from its naked metal body. Its heads were a scant few feet away from him and both had gaping wide jaws with rows of metal teeth.

“Oh....oh no...oh _shit_.”

The King tilted its plastic head almost quizzically.

“... _ah-ah-ah...’tis b-b-bittersweet...but fitting...bitters-s-s-sweet...don’t be afraid...don’t be afraid...don’t be afraid. I mean n-n-no harm...it will be quick...quick....quick...and sweet...like sleep.”_

_“_ Oh, yeah, that’s a _huge_ fucking comfort.”

Caleb scanned around for something, _anything_ to throw at the bastard. God, why was there _nothing_ useful in here?! He was staring Death itself in the eyes, and all he had to hand were few balls of trash!

The King’s metal limbs undulated in the light. Its jaws twitched from side to side. Both sets of eyes fixed on Caleb. One pristine plastic finger tapped nervously on the ceiling.

He was running out of time.

Caleb brought the monitor back up and scanned quickly over the cameras, painfully aware of the monster hanging from the ceiling. The Jester’s timer had almost run out, so he wasted several precious seconds resetting it. Mogar and Pattillo were both jammed into the vents. Thumps and clicks sounded from the hall.

“ _They’re coming for you...”_ the King trilled. “ _We’ll take good care of you. You’ll love it so much you’ll n-n-n-n-n- **never** want to leave....no-one will leave...no-one...why are we so alone?”_

_“_ God I wish you’d shut up,” Caleb mumbled.

Both vents rattled.

Two red lights winked on in the darkness.

The King growled low in its ratty throat. Its heads hung lower. Those metal teeth shone in the light. Hot puffs of oily air washed over the back of Caleb’s neck.

“ _Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, stop the c-c-clock, stop the clock...cold as ice, still as rock...”_ The King giggled to itself. Little, hiccuping noises breathed stinking air over Caleb’s head and neck. “ _Don’t c-c-cry, litle o-o-o-one. Don’t you cry. E-E-E-E-Everything will be all right.”_

Caleb let out a little whimper.

A loud moo erupted from the left side of the desk. Caleb jumped out of his chair and crashed to the floor. Overhead, the King burst into laughter. Loud, crackling guffaws echoed through the room and bounced down the hallway. Caleb let out a groan and peeked out from behind the desk.

The little brown cow stood beside the wall and stared at him with little black eyes. It mooed again and tapped its tiny gray hooves. Caleb stared back at it.

What in God’s name...?

He let out a nervous little laugh and tapped the button to switch the overhead light on.

A loud, angry buzz from overhead briefly blotted out the King’s mad laughter. The light flickered briefly before going out.

Oh no.

He tried again.

It didn’t work.

Shit, _no._

He tried again.

It still didn’t work.

“ _Heh hack ha ha! Rage, rage against the dying of the light! Rage, RAGE! Heh ha – eg – uphf – Vile little creature! Vile little beast!”_

The King’s body had shifted now. It had gathered beneath its heads and pushed them out, further and further, like a bucket being lowered down on a rope. One plastic hand jutted out from the side of its tattered neck, and its other parts clamored and pushed against each other, trying to find some unoccupied space to take. Its heads hung upside down and stared into Caleb’s eyes. It rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, slowly and steadily building up speed.

It was about to attack him.

A strange sensation descended over Caleb’s body. It almost felt like he’d dropped into an icy lake. Goosebumps popped up all over his body and he shuddered. His stomach wrenched, and for a moment, he thought he would puke or shit or both. A laugh rattled within its spindly ribcage. Like it knew what he was feeling.

Like it knew what he was _thinking_.

Meanwhile, the red lights in the hallway had grown brighter. The fuzzy outline of a largely skeletal robot flickered behind the light, and an eerily familiar hum rumbled from the hall. The King’s endo-skull twisted around and stared down the hall. Its jaw rattled and chattered. One of its bent and broken limbs jerked wildly.

“ _Ugh - ah – agh – what is that which lurks in the halls? Those...those eyes...red...red like sin...red like blood...I-I-I-I-I-I know those eyes...know them...know them...”_

The King gibbered to itself and rocked back and forth.

The plastic cow let out a moo.

A snarl sounded from the hallway.

Caleb shut his eyes and cringed into the chair.

And then-

And then...

All the lights went out. A loud skittering sounded overhead. The red lights wavered and dimmed.

“ _N-N-N-Next time, my s-s-s-sweet…I’ll hold you in my arms y-y-y-y-yet again._ ”

Caleb peeked out from behind his fingers. Everything was back to normal again. Heart in his throat, he looked over at his watch.

Six AM. Somehow he’d fucking made it.

By the skin of his teeth, sure, but he had.

Caleb let out a sound somewhere between a giggle and  a whimper. He slid out of his chair and let his forehead rest against the ground. It was icy cold and sent shivers crawling all over his body.

He would have to do it again.

He would have to come back here tomorrow and do it again, when he’d barely survived tonight.

He whimpered and hid his face in his arms.

God, why did he have to come here?

…

Why did he have to come _back_ here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Clearly I need to stop making promises about when the next chapter's coming out. ^^;
> 
> Lotta life happening all at once, so next one will come out when it comes out, I guess.
> 
> See you then! :D


	5. Cutscene #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love interludes?

“Dude, why the hell are we doing this?”

Dirk shrugged and gestured to the door. “Boss’s orders. He wants to get the Mad King presentable again, and RT doesn’t want to spring for more parts. So, in we go.”

Andy swallowed and peeped into the room. Five oblong shadows propped up against the walls, and he drew away from the door. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“It gives everyone the creeps, man.” Dirk waved a dismissive hand and pulled the door wide open. “Getting paid overrides creepy.”

“Should it, though?”

“Shut up and follow me.”

Andy shut his mouth and entered the room. Dirk reached out and flipped the light switch. A solitary incandescent bulb flickered to life overhead and sputtered fitfully.

“How in the hell is that light bulb acting up already?” Dirk frowned up at it. “We’ve barely been open a month.”

“Maybe it’s refurbished?” said Andy.

Dirk looked over at him. “A refurbished light bulb.”

“It could happen.”

Dirk sighed and moved further into the room. Andy glanced back at the door and followed behind him.

There were five robots strewn about the floor in various poses. Andy didn’t quite remember their names at the moment, but didn’t care enough to ask Dirk. Four of them were propped up against the wall, while the fifth lay on the ground. Its eyes were fixed on the door and its mouth was frozen in a horrible half-rictus grin. Three of the others had similar expressions on their rotting faces. As for the fifth...well...

"Hello, gentlemen,” said Dirk. Andy jerked his eyes away from the bots and focused on his companion. He patted the closest one on the head almost amicably. “Hope you guys are ready for some action.”

“Why are you talking to the fucking robots?!” asked Andy.

Dirk snorted and kicked out at the prone robot’s naked endoskeleton leg. “These things have been dead for months. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Says you...” said Andy.

“Don’t be a pussy.” Dirk held out his hand expectantly. When Andy didn’t respond, he snapped his fingers. “Tool kit, moron.”

“Fine, fine, here it is.” Andy unclipped the kit from his belt and plopped it down into Dirk’s hand. “What all do we need, anyway?”

“Voice synthesizer’s busted. Mad King can hardly speak without stuttering. Plus the boss thinks his logic circuits are fried. Nothing but poems and broken sentences coming out of him now.”

“Isn’t that...kind of the point?” Dirk blinked and looked up at Andy. “All I’m saying is he’s supposed to be a _Mad_ King.”

“How about this. You go tell the boss that, and when you’re inevitably fired for insubordination, I can continue working.”

“Well, there’s no need to be rude,” Andy grumbled.

Dirk snorted and pulled out a screwdriver and a set of wire cutters. He stepped over the robot on the floor, glanced over the remaining four, and finally knelt beside the last of these. This robot had been the one that transfixed Andy, and his gaze now returned to it.

It had no face.

That was all Andy could think when looking at it. It had no face. A bearded jaw with teeth jutted out of its neck, and its skull still bore gold curls around the back, but from hairline to upper jaw was...gone. Pitch blackness, with only two little nubs and a tangle of wires to suggest there had ever been a face there. Compared to that, the other animatronics looked downright pleasant.

Dirk pushed the animatronic’s remaining arm off its lap and peered into its eyeless chasm.

“O- _kay,_ I’m _pretty_ sure... _this_ one’s...Ryan, but...it’s hard to tell.”

“Do, uh, do we know what happened to his....you know...” Andy made a circle around his head.

“Probably pulled it off to get at something in his head. Who the fuck knows. All right...now where...is...that synthesizer...”

The light overhead flickered. Andy glanced up at it briefly. His attention was soon grabbed again by the robot Dirk was prodding. He swore its foot had jerked reflexively when his coworker poked into its chest.

“It better not have been in his head. It _better_ not be in his _fucking_ head.”

“Why does it have to be _that_ one in particular?” Andy asked.

The light flickered again.

“Because, idiot, the Mad King is the updated version of this one.” He smacked the robot’s upper thigh. “Ergo, they’ll have the same voice synthesizer, _ergo,_ Mr. Sorola doesn’t have to come down here and reprogram anything. It’ll already have his voice. Capice?”

“Won’t it be incompatible? They’re, uh, they’re all kind of...old.”

The light buzzed.

“If they were incompatible, we wouldn’t have kept them, would we? They’d’ve gone to the dump faster than you can say ‘obsolete.’” Dirk tore off a fragment of blue t-shirt and chucked it to the floor. “ _There_ we go. Finally. Let’s get this out and scram. I’m already gonna be late to lunch.”

With a loud POP, the light bulb went out. Andy screeched and went for his flashlight. It slipped from his numb fingers and rolled into the darkness.

“Calm down, the light just blew. We can get it fixed in no-”

Dirk’s voice cut off abruptly. Something squealed over the floor.

“Dirk? You okay?”

A gurgle rattled from Dirk’s general direction.

Another snap rang out through the room, and for a brief moment, Andy thought the light would come back on.

It didn’t.

A wave of static rippled through the room and rolled over Andy like icy water. It churned and resolved into a low chuckle.

“Weren’t you ever taught to keep your hands to yourself?”

That voice...it sounded kind of like the babbling King’s voice. Andy stepped back toward the door.

Another pop rang through the room. Two red lights flickered to life and washed the room in hellish shadows. Andy cringed and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He peeped over the edge of his arm to see what the hell was going on.

The robot was standing.

Standing and _staring_ at Andy with its beady, blood red animatronic eyes.

It held Dirk out to its side. He choked and clawed at the skeletal hand wrapped around his throat. The red light left Andy and illuminated Dirk’s sweaty face. A pool of shadow wrapped around the animatronic’s legs, cast by its lone protruding jaw.

“Haven’t you done enough already? Look at the state we’re in.”

Its hand closed more tightly around Dirk’s neck. Beads of blood welled at the tips of its clawlike fingers and collected in Dirk’s collar.

“We were a source of _pride,_ you know. Before you threw us back here. Used us for parts. Paraded those plastic toys around like they were _better._ But they _aren’t._ You’re missing something. Something _vital._ And everyone _knows_ it.”

Andy pulled out his taser and pointed it at the robot. He held it with both hands to better mask just how hard he was trembling.

“Drop him!”

Red light burst over him in a wave. He squinted and grimaced.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Another pop crackled in the darkness.

“You don’t want to do that, believe me, you don’t.”

The animatronic stepped toward him. Its bare feet clanged loudly on the floor.

“Look at me.”

Andy swallowed and clicked the safety off.

“Don’t. Do it.” It swung Dirk around and glanced down at him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m made of metal and am largely...exposed. Shock me, and your friend’ll get it, too.”

Fuck, it was right. He’d hurt Dirk if he shocked it now.

But if he didn’t shoot it, it would choke Dirk to death.

Electrocuting an employee probably wouldn’t sit well with the higher ups.

But letting one choke to death when he could have done something wouldn’t exactly look good, either.

The barrel dipped toward the ground while Andy debated himself.

A hand shot from the darkness and struck Andy’s knuckles. He cried out and reflexively dropped the taser. It dropped to the ground and bounced away. It stopped just outside the red light, and as Andy watched, a foot dropped down and crushed it.

“Got your fucking stupid toy, asshole! What’re you gonna do about it?”

Mogar? How did he get in here? _Why_ did he get in here?

Andy stepped back toward the door. Maybe if he ran-

Hands curled around his biceps and lifted him off the ground. He let out a yell and writhed in the grasp. His spasms brought him face to face with the being holding him captive, and his blood ran cold.

The animatronic lying on the floor now stared him in the face. Its animatronic eyes burned with angry white light, and the intact half of its face had curled into a sneer.

Had its face been intact, it could have passed for Mogar’s twin.

“Like what you see, dickweed? You stupid assholes ruined my face. My _beautiful_ face!” The animatronic let out a theatrical wail and covered the exposed half of its face with an equally exposed forearm. “You _ruined_ me!”

“It’s not possible, it’s not possible, it’s not possible, it’s not possible.” Andy’s eyes shot around the room wildly. White lights sparked to life all throughout the darkness. Creaks and cracks and mechanical groans echoed throughout the room. “You…you _can’t_ be active. You _shouldn’t_ be able to move around! They said you were _dead!_ ”

The faceless robot shrugged. “Yet here we all are.”

“Fucking _shut up,_ Ryan!” The robot holding Andy grabbed the back of his head with one hand. “I’m sick and fucking tired of talking.”

“Michael, I’m _bored_ in here, Michael,” a new voice said. “I want to go out and _play,_ Michael.”

“There’ll be time for playing once we’re done here,” said the faceless robot – said Ryan, rather.

Dirk’s face had turned an ugly shade of purple. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his hands dropped by his sides.

Red light washed over Andy.

Two robots flanked the faceless one on either side, and another bot appeared at Michael’s left.

They drew closer and closer, closing the gaps between them with their rotting bodies.

“No more parts taken.”

“No more flesh stolen.”

“No more fucking closets!”

“No more boring days.”

Dirk dropped from Ryan’s grasp. He sprawled on the ground and vanished from Andy’s line of sight.

From this angle, Andy couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Ryan. “I do hope you’re ready for some… _action_.”

All the animatronics stepped closer. Michael let out a maniacal giggle.

Andy screamed.

Screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed until the hands closed around his throat and he could scream no more.


End file.
